end of his life, was carried by two servants, in an open chair, about the neighbourhood.

Two miles on the road is the village of Abergwilli. It was at this place that the good Prince Llewelyn fought an obstinate battle with Rhun, an adventurer from Scotland, calling himself the son of Prince Meredith. The adventurer ranged his troops in order of battle, and exhorted them to courage and constancy, but withdrew privately during the contest to a place of safety where he might watch the event. The brave prince, on the contrary, was seen wherever the battle raged the most fiercely, and by his valour achieved a victory, in which his enemy was slain, notwithstanding his efforts to escape.

Near to the village, and just at that point where a most romantic bend of the Towey washes the margin of the lawn, stands the episcopal palace belonging to the Bishop of Saint David's, commanding a view of this majestic river in its refluent meanderings up the vale, before it resumes its onward course towards the sea. The Towey, when it leaves its early mountain-track, and receives the united streams of the Bran and Gwdderig, seems to revel with its accumulated waters through the rich valley that bears its name; at one time rolling in an impetuous headlong torrent, and then circling with a gentle current almost from side to side, as if to lave some favoured spot, or to expend its joy in sportive gambols, separating as it flows the whole extent into distinct portions of great beauty. About a mile beyond Abergwilli is one of these little dells, through which a clear and nameless stream pursues its

way from the hills to bury itself in the channel of the river. On the western side of this little dell an eminence rises, called Merlin's Hill, which tradition has assigned as the birthplace of this extraordinary man; near the brow is an opening in the rocks, which the country people still credulously show as the place in which the seer practised his incantations.

"For he by wordes could call out of the sky

Both sunne and moone, and make them him obey;

The land to sea, and sea to maineland dry,

And darksom night he eke could turn to day;

Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay,

And hostes of men of meanest things could frame,
Whenso him list his enemies to pay :

That to this day, for terror of his fame,

The feendes do quake when any him to them does name."

Ascending the hill yet higher, an extensive view presents itself of the vale as far as the hill above Llanarthney.

The birth and life of Merlin, "surnamed Ambrosius," as may be supposed, is full of mystery. His mother was a royal virgin, the daughter of King Demetius, and, according to her confession, the prophet was "conceived by the compression of some fantastical spiritual creature." This, however, is considered only a fiction raised by her woman's wit, "to conceal the person of her sweetheart," whose life would have been endangered by a revelation of the truth. He was brought forth from his obscurity by the profligate King Vortigern, when he was purposing to build a castle to protect him from his enraged subjects; but in which design he had been continually thwarted by prodigies of various kinds. The king, by the aid of his seer, at last accomplished his purpose. The castle was built,

and here the monarch is said to have dwelt in scclusion, "diverted by the many pleasant fancies" which Merlin devised to drive away his melancholy. But when the king's fate drew nigh, Merlin found means to escape from the devoted fortress, became a good Christian, and foreshowed truly many things to come. Among other events in which the ancient seer is concerned, he is said to have brought "the great stones which stand till this day on the plain of Salisbury, during one stormy night from Ireland, and caused them to be placed there in remembrance of the British lords who were slain on that spot." Merlin was destined, notwithstanding his supernatural powers, to be the subject of human sympathies, and to endure some of the disappointments that arise out of them. He fell in love with the "Lady of the Lake;" but "she was ever passing weary of him, and fain would have been delivered of him." The prophet followed his mistress into Brittany, where, as the tradition goes, he was enchanted into a white-thorn bush, in the forest of Breceliande, by the arts which, in a moment of weakness, he had disclosed to her. His grave is said to be close by the fairy fountain of Baranton. In the words of the Gaulish chronicle, "Là dort le vieux Druide, au murmure des eaux et du vent qui gémit dans les bruyères d'alentour."

Passing on two miles further I reached Pont ar Cothy, which extensive stream, rising in the northeastern limits of the county, forms a junction with the Towey about a mile below the bridge. The antiquarian will find subjects for his research in this neighbourhood, amongst the remains of an old castle, on an elevated

part of the western bank of the Cothy, within two miles of the road to Llandilo, and of another fortress, three miles beyond this, on the castern side of the stream.

It was early morning, and the sun had just emerged from his cloudy pavilion, when I started from Carmarthen to explore the abundant beauties of the district of the Towey. It was now noon, and that great luminary was on his southern track, but attended by such a retinue of turbid and ever-shifting clouds, as made me apprehend a fearful thunderstorm. I therefore hastened onwards by Llanegwad, passing close to the river where it bends in serpentine evolutions amidst the luxuriant pasture-land at Wern-ddu. Opposite to this place, looking over the Towey, rises Nelson's Tower, erected by Sir William Paxton, to commemorate the victory and death of that hero, and which forms one of the most conspicuous points in the vale. I now struck off from the main road, and turning to the right reached Felindre, and crossing the Dulas, a little tributary stream, came to Dryslyn Castle. The ruins of this ancient stronghold are situated on a bold green cminence, which rises like an island in the midst of a wide opening in the valley, and overhangs the western shore of the Towey. From the summit of these ruins is one of the finest prospects in the vale, extending to the eastward eight or ten miles, and they themselves form an interesting object when viewed from the surrounding scenery.

Dryslyn Castle once occupied a large space of ground, but its remains are now very inconsiderable, comprising only some fragments of the walls, and a part of one of